


The Secret Ingredient

by giors1



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giors1/pseuds/giors1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina Mills might also have a list of what she needs, but perhaps a grocery is not the perfect place to find it. And maybe it's really just a joke, but would it be that bad?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. With a bit of rock music, everything is fine

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended
> 
> \---
> 
> Yesterday’s the past, tomorrow’s the future, but today is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present.  
> (Bil Keane)
> 
> \---

 

Regina Mills had always liked the dynamic behind a grocery store, the rationality behind the presence of a list of something she was short of and the consequent action of going there, buying things and going back home.

Plain and simple.

She had never believed in any word belonging to those silly books where someone enters one of those fancy stores selling organic food and suddenly is involved in one of those breathless plot twists where someone's life is completely messed up by an unexpected meeting. Oh, no.

Moreover, she had always been a thriller fan.

 

Meeting Gold, during that cloudy October day, wasn't the most predictable thing of the world. And Regina meant _every possible world_.

She had heard he was going through a quite peculiar phase, consisting in buying every kind of unmentionable food: the more carbs and fats it contained, the best it was.

Regina had the strange urge to ask him if he knew some kind of wizardry able to erase every effect that fats could have on someone's hips. Yes, because Belle, who was walking beside him, was really in perfect shape. His cart was the perfect representation of what Regina Mills despised the most: bottles of coke - not even the ones lying, calling themselves _light_ -, bread, Oreos, chips and wine.

Regina also had the urge to ask him if he had asked Henry to write his shopping list. Well, except for the wine.

_Seriously, Gold?_

 

"Oh, hello Regina?" said a sweet voice.

The former mayor imagined herself shaking the young woman, asking "How can you even date this man??", followed by a more useful "And what's the deal between you and carbs?", but at the end she had been able to maintain her elegant attitude and answer with a cordial "Hello to you, Miss French."

 

A male voice interrupted this deep exchange of regards.

"Here she is...still avoiding the frozen food section...".

"I'm happy to notice that carbs really get the best of people, Gold. Classy as usual."

"Cannot tell the same thing about you, Madam May- ops... for a moment I forgot you're no longer the Mayor of this town. A town with a grocery full of spectacular food to share with our beloved ones..."

Regina was extremely confused. And extremely irritated. "Gold, are we really spending 10 minutes of our day to have a verbal challenge about what I eat, what it's going to make you live ten years less than expected..."

"I'm immortal, dearie." Gold interrupted, even if it was ignored by Regina who rolled her eyes and concluded her sentence with a dry "...and what you do in the privacy of your house".

Mr Gold smiled. "With my girlfriend."

 

If Regina had been a kettle, she would have been on the verge of explosion.

 

"Thank you for your further specification, Gold."

"And you?" Belle's question came out of nowhere. Probably she had had a concussion, sometime during the conversation between Regina and Gold. Poor Belle.

"I beg your pardon, Miss French... _and you_ what?" Regina asked the woman, with a certain amount of suspicion.

“Well, you have at least four dozens of eggs in your cart. I assumed you were about to cook something special ...Rumple has always told me how extraordinary your apple pie is!”

“Dear, I haven't the slightest idea of what you are talking about...I haven't bought any-”

And suddenly Regina found herself watching her cart. Eggs.

“Is this some kind of joke?” she asked, unable to watch anything else but those eggs.

Unwanted eggs.

They weren't even on the list.

But what actually surprised her was finding that both Gold and Belle just disappeared the moment she looked up, making her seem like someone who was complaining about food with a bottle of floor cleaner.

 

“Is this some kind of childish joke, Gold?”. The second time, everyone in the grocery store could hear her question. Not that the store was full of people, after all. But, despite the scarce crowd, someone had been enough rude and distracted to hit Regina with his cart, causing her to inelegantly fall to the ground.

She had five seconds to think of every kind of remark to address to the person who caused that disgraceful accident.

Or to every possible official complain to address to the store manager.

And a series of spells for Gold.

But when she stood up, she couldn't say a single word.

There was no cart, anymore. No one behind her pretending to be sorry for hurting her. No damn eggs.

 

Regina Mills wasn't even in the grocery, anymore.

 

Unable to move or speak, she could only think.

_Why on earth am I locked in the Town Hall restroom?_

_But mostly, why are they playing Abba's Dancing Queen?_


	2. Looking out for the place to go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for every favorite, follow and review; having such a pleasant feedback has been so inspiring and helpful for the writing of this story.
> 
> Now let's see if Regina really suffered from an head trauma. Or not...

  
She didn't know exactly what to do, at that point.

Going out?   
Stay there for the rest of her life?   
Having the phrase _Is this some kind of joke?_ tattooed on her forearm?

After a few endless seconds, she thought it might have been a good idea to grab the doorknob and open the door to find out some explanation about the sudden, and unrequested, change of place: from a store to a restroom. That wasn't definitely something that could happen to a Queen.

The restroom was empty, sinks were perfectly clean and _leave 'em burning and then you're gone_ had just become her favorite part of the song that became the soundtrack of this inexplicable trick.

Still confused by the events, she stopped for a second to plan a strategy: the list of available information she had was non-existent, except for the fact that she was at the Town Hall and the cleaning lady had done an amazing job.

She had no idea of the new context she found herself into, and the starry night she could see just outside one of the windows of the corridor leading to the Meeting Hall suggested she had experienced a slight time hole. _Slight_ , she hoped.

She was dressed in the exact same way as she was at the store, and that could have represented a problem if the music she was hearing was in fact the sign of a party. Well, maybe not a party she would have organized, because the playlist would've been completely different.

Classical music.  
Or jazz, if she wanted something wild and outrageous.  
Abba. She knew only one person who liked them.

For a second, she thought that entering the meeting hall could have been risky. That place had been the perfect setting for her several triumphs as a political figure, as a manipulator and as a cook – those cooking contests she had won three times in a row were really so satisfying.

That room had also seen some of her most tragic _débâcles_ , with the infamous Abba lover always stealing the scene; the first time Emma Swan had that poor speech which let her become the new sheriff, a few weeks later that miserable attempt of ruining her plans of building a new playground for Storybrooke kids. Not to mention when the 4th cooking contest had to be closed due to a fire _she_ caused, trying to cook a boring omelet. Well, a fatal omelet.

Only ten steps divided Regina Mills from her entrée in the meeting hall when something – well, someone – grabbed her arm.

“Are you ok, dear?”. A definitely familiar female voice used the less appropriate apposition that could've been used for someone like Regina Mills. Except if you are Rumpelstiltskin. And, in that case, there's always some kind of menace or request behind.

“Of course I am...” Could she call her _Snow_ or had she jumped in a time when the obnoxious woman was still known as Mary Margaret?

“The entire table has already started to ask where you were...”

Table? What was exactly happening in _her_ Town Hall? A conference? A party?

“Well, tell them I'm on my way”.

“Are we a little moody, today?”. The colloquial tone of that conversation had started to be really out of place, Regina thought. “But don't worry, Belle says it's completely normal...”

Regina Mills was surprised by the obscure meaning behind that statement, even if it gave her one crucial hint: using the name _Belle_ meant that everyone was aware of their fairytale identity.

Good to know.

But what caused Snow to be so friendly with her was still a mystery. Well, together with the fact that she and Belle shared some kind of disorder making them look strange.

For a moment Regina thought of strangling Snow, but then she remembered that it would've been unwise to create such an unstable event, especially considering the presumed time hole. Classifying that thought as _pleasant, but dangerous_ , she simply got rid of Snow with a simple “Oh, I think your Prince Charming is looking for you”.

She disappeared in a second.

Eventually, when Regina entered the meeting hall, she stopped for a second just to analyse the scene; there were at least ten round tables full of glasses, white plates and a big bouquet in the center. People were relaxingly walking, laughing and chatting everywhere, and especially congesting a buffet still full of food.

Despite what seemed to be an official celebration of something, she was happy to realize that the general dress code of the event made her black mayoral dress look proper.

She probably had a reserved seat or table somewhere, even if the possibility of having unpleasant people sat with her was concrete; but what made her actually uncomfortable was the unusual friendly smiles and greetings she was receiving.

A familiar face literally shocked the fake self-confidence she was showing.

Henry.

_Eighteen-year-old Henry_.

The moment he saw her, he politely abandoned the small group of friends to reach the spot where Regina was standing still.

He was taller than her, and his hair was now shorter. He was wearing a simple pair of jeans but shirt and shoes were definitely elegant. And he had a pair of eyeglasses on top of his head.

“Mum, are you alright?”

She couldn't help but hug him as soon as he was close.

“Mum, you look like you've seen a ghost”

“Oh, I'm sorry, Henry...I think I'm just tired...”. Regina tried to find the proper words to speak with him without revealing her state of shock after having lost more or less five years of her son's life.

“You just look great tonight, Henry”. She smiled at him. And her heart was exploding.

“Mum, you said you hated my shoes like 12 minutes ago...”. Henry was a bit confused by the sudden compliment, but mostly he was embarrassed for the extremely long hug his mother was giving him.

“Oh, forget about it, you look great, dear!” Regina couldn't really stop herself from staring at her little prince, enjoying the privilege of seeing him as a grown man; she had a million questions and she was ready to spend days listening to everything he had done in those 5 years she missed.

No, she just couldn't ask him anything, but somehow hugging him so tightly was enough, anyway.

“Mama is waiting for her food, I really should go, Mum...”

_Mama_. The word hit Regina like a ton of bricks. When did he start to call _that woman_ mama?

There is a thing about Regina - every version of Regina existing in every timeline – that everyone should never forget: when cornered, she really does her best. So, even if reluctantly, she broke their embrace and asked what Emma wanted.

“You know, the usual”. _Henry, you're not that helpful, you know?!_

“Of course. Don't worry about it, I'll just grab something for her and join her at the table. Now, just go and have fun with your friends!”

When she kissed him on his cheek, she almost forgot the furious rage caused by the sudden change of the name of her plan, from operation _Is this some kind of joke?_ to operation _W_ _hy are you calling Emma mama?_.

Also, why did her operations always involve a question? _Not. Good._

She watched him walking away and joining again that group of people he was talking to just some minutes before, she took two glasses of white pinot from the buffet and, with her usual elegant stride, she started to walk, looking for Emma Swan.


	3. See that girl, watch that scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N/A: Again, thanks for the amazing response for this little story, it means so much to me.

  
When she spotted the Sheriff – was she still in charge or not? - she noticed that she was alone, sitting at a table near one of the big windows of the room. Despite those 5 years lost somewhere, she could see how Emma Swan had still remained the same: her hair was still blond and curly, maybe a bit shorter, and she could see from her arms that she hadn't given up with those pull-ups.

Even if Regina didn't actually want to stare at the woman, she thought that a bit of rational analysis of her antagonist was due. Noticing that she really looked great in that simple one-shoulder black dress, or that it was probably the first time she had seen her wearing make-up, was just part of the process of gathering information.

Regina took a breath, walked and sat beside Emma Swan. When the woman saw the two glasses Regina put on the table, her reaction was of pure hilarious confusion. She was clearly trying to avoid some sarcastic remark, and Regina was almost surprised by the absence of shyness in the blonde's eyes.

“Crowded restroom?” Eventually Emma spoke.

“I met some interesting people...” Answered Regina, without any further specification. It was too early to reveal her cards. Even if Regina wasn't really sure about actually having any card at all.

“White pinot?” Emma was now watching the glasses.

“Thought you wanted something to drink”. Regina sounded really confident.

“Your favorite”. That statement was a surprise. How could she know?

When Emma took one of the glasses and slowly sipped the wine, Regina noticed a small, but pivotal detail about her left hand: she was wearing a ring on her annular. Definitely a wedding ring.

Emma Swan was married. Did Regina have to be worried about a _mama_ and a _daddy_ , too?

Somehow Regina felt the urge to drink the entire content of the other glass, together with all the wine available at the party, but Emma was fast enough to take the glass away from her.

She had no idea why the blonde had this reaction.

“You missed Eugenia's speech. She was really happy about her 80th birthday...and definitely comfortable about those 28 years of your curse she keeps on considering for her official count...”

“Well, happy birthday, Granny”, said Regina stealing the desired glass of wine from Emma's hand.

Cheers.

“Sweetheart, you really shouldn't...”

When Emma said those words, the sudden confusion Regina experienced was overcome by Emma's embarrassment. Emma knew something Regina didn't.

“How did you call me?”. All the wine of the world wouldn't have been enough to help her dealing with Emma's words.

“I'm sorry... I guess I've drunk too much wine, tonight...Eugenia's birthdays can be so wild, sometimes...”

Emma hid _whatever she was hiding_ behind a charming smile, and stood up, apparently trying to run away from Regina.

“What's going on here, Miss Swan?” asked Regina, grabbing Emma's hand to prevent the woman from going away.

“I think it has happened again...damn Gold...”. Regina kept on being confused, and Emma had already realized that something wrong was definitely going on.

“You haven't called me Miss Swan for almost four years, Regina. I can assure you that our relationship cannot be considered complicated anymore. We're at the point where _sweetheart_ is not really so out of place, with us...”

Emma could see how Regina's eyes were eager for new information but, in the meantime, how misleading every statement could sound. She sat again beside the brunette, and when she spoke her voice was low and tender.

“I think you've already seen the ring. It was a Sunday, after a walk at the bay. It was Henry's idea...he planned what would have become one of the best days of my life”.

“I don't know if I'm really interested in knowing those private details of your life...”

Emma took Regina's left hand so that the older woman could see the ring on her own finger. Dangerously similar to Emma's.

“Henry told me you bought them a couple of months before that day at the bay. It took you so long, but I really had no idea of your intentions...”

Regina had always been quite a receptive woman, but she was finding it hard to put the pieces together; slowly, and dangerously, she started to focus on one of the events that had happened during those 5 years she had lost. But no. She wanted Emma Swan, her antagonist, Storybrooke Sheriff, to say those words.

“We got married a few months after. May 17th. At sunset, in the garden of our house.”

No.

_Is this some kind of joke?_

“You're my wife, Regina Mills”

Fainting wouldn't have been elegant for someone like Regina Mills, but she thought that a vague sense of nausea was legitimate.

“I think I need some more wine, Miss Swan”

“And that's another thing you should know. You really shouldn't drink, Regina. Really. Shouldn't. Drink.” Emma lowered even more her voice, never leaving Regina's hand, the same hand that she was now softly caressing.

“Water, Regina. I'd suggest nothing more than water”.

“Am I...?” She wasn't brave enough to complete the sentence.

“Yes, you are. But we really should wait at least a couple of minutes before I give you the detailed explanation...”

_Just a couple of minutes, Miss Swan? What about a century?_

Regina pretended not to be shocked. “I need some fresh air”

“Fresh air is good...like water” Emma confirmed with a blink of her left eye.

And with that suggestion, Regina Mills stormed out of the Town Hall.

\--

Feeling dizzy, she barely reached the small white bench near her beloved apple tree, in the rear garden of the Town Hall. The tree had been there all those years, untouched and still majestic, but it was maybe the only object which had had this privilege.

The rest of the world, no matter if she considered it hers or not, had been shaken by an earthquake causing every logical process and relationship to collapse.

Married to Emma Swan.

Pregnant.

Entirely not possible.

“I'm sorry”

Emma's voice hadn't been unexpected. Had she come to end the evening with a bang?

Sorry about what?

“I've known it since the first moment I met you...” Emma tried again with that tender tone of her voice Regina had no idea she could have.

“I don't really think this is the proper moment to show me how romantic you are”

“Ok, listen to me for a moment”. Emma started to speak as soon as she sat near Regina, this time without taking her hand.

“When I saw you, a few minutes ago, I realized something was wrong. I noticed your face when you saw Henry...and then you took those glasses of wine. You're Regina Mills. But you're not _my_ Regina Mills.”

“Are we really married, Miss Swan?”

“In this world, we certainly are. But our marriage, and the feelings that are related to it, don't belong to your world”. She didn't dare to add the word _yet_.

“Is Gold somehow involved in what is happening?” Regina found it hard to ask something about the feelings Emma had just mentioned, but recalled something she had said as soon as they met in the Town Hall. Damn Gold.

“I would say you're almost friends, here. But he has the skill of finding a solution to the general boredom of this town, making you travel back and forth in time just for his amusement”.

“I assume it's not the first time, then. And that you can remember those events while I forget everything as soon as I come back to my time...”

“No, it's not the first time”. Emma started to find the company of that version of her wife quite pleasant. Somehow, someday, she will be married also with that woman, in every possible timeline.

“A couple of years ago, we were...well, let's say that we've had an argument and we were trying to...make peace, and suddenly you took my wife's place. And your version was coming from the day after I saved you from the fire here at the Town Hall”.

Regina was almost smiling, enchanted by Emma's words.

“You weren't exactly in the suitable mood for that special thing we do when you're upset...or stressed...or when Henry's out...”

“Ok, Swan. No details, thanks”. But Regina had another burning question in her mind.

“Are we really having a baby?”

“Well, _my wife_ is pregnant, even if just a few people know it, right now. Not that I trust Snow's ability to keep a secret, but she's doing her best and asks you how you are a million times a day. But no, I don't think that you are, now...”

Regina was relieved. More or less.

“Also considering that something should've happened 7 weeks ago between you and me...”

Right.

“I realized you weren't... _you_. And I'm sorry if I kinda played with you. Moreover, you made me promise of not hurting Gold after his little tricks, so that's how I cope with the urge of strangling him. I'm sorry, Regina”.

“It's ok”.

Emma was probably freezing, cause that dress really couldn't have kept her warm outside, during that cold October night; Regina noticed that she didn't even complain once, but she wasn't brave enough to help the woman, giving her her blazer or inviting her to some warmer place. It would've been too personal. Too gentle.

“Is there any kind of solution? Some way for me to come back home, in 2014?”

“Usually, we just wait. You stay here more or less for one hour. Sometimes it's enough to make you fall in love with me again. Sometimes we have an argument that lasts until my wife comes back again. Oh... once, you hit me with lamp. Also, it's easier if you go to the same place where you appeared in first place. Usually, that's some kind of portal”.

That Emma Swan really had the impressive skill to talk about spells, love and fights in the same sentence in the most casual way.

“Well, let's go to the restroom, then...”

Regina stood up and started to walk towards the door, without waiting for Emma to join her. It could have sounded rude, but the sense of comfort she was experiencing with her presence was awkward. The moment she could feel Emma walking behind her, anyway, made her feel protected and safe, even if they hadn't spoken a single word during their way to the restroom. And that feeling was pretty familiar to that Regina Mills, since the moment Emma Swan saved her from the wraith.

When they reached the portal, embarrassment had become again the prevalent emotion they felt.

“Well, it's almost time, I guess” Regina broke the silence. “In a couple of minutes everything will go back to normal”

“I guess so” answered laconically Emma, not being a fan of goodbyes.

“Just tell me one thing, if I may...” Emma silently nodded, giving permission to Regina to ask what would have been her last question.

“How did it start? I mean...between us?”

But it took just a couple of seconds before Regina began to feel dizzy, with that Abba song playing loud again in her ears. Without any chance to get an answer or say goodbye, everything went black around her.

She lost her balance, but she could still hear Emma's voice saying one single word.

“Eggs”.


	4. And When You Get The Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to you all. You've favorited this story, written comments, sent kudos... I'm flattered!  
> This is the last chapter, I hope you'll enjoy the resolution of this fluffy fanfic, written just to survive the hiatus and the general complicated life of a simple fan of this show.

 She could feel her cheek touching a rather cold surface, and her right shoulder started to hurt a bit. A few seconds after, an hesitant hand caressed that same shoulder.

“I'm so very sorry, Regina! Oh God...”

Regina was lying on the floor of the grocery store, not very far from her cart. Something, or someone, had hit her enough to make her lose the fight against gravity, but when she heard that voice she had, at least, the confirmation that someone was there to help her.

The doubt Regina had about the honesty of the apology was still strong in her brain, but the voice sounded somehow sincere.

Suddenly she realized that the last people she saw before falling on the floor were nowhere to be seen, meaning that the only thing that she could recognize was a single pair of shoes, clearly not belonging to Gold or Belle.

A pair of black boots. Not exceptionally clean, to be precise.

Regina must've been confused after the impact, because it took her a while to realize she hadn't said a single word, yet, despite the apology she had promptly received. And that hand on her shoulder really couldn't help her with going out of that temporary physical blackout.

“I didn't realized you where there, and I was texting and... damn, Regina, I'm really sorry!”

Regina found the voice quite comforting, and actually she couldn't feel any sign of anger towards the person saying those words. 

 

“Regina, can you move? Are you all right? Please, say something!”

 

Strong arms lifted her enough to let her gain a seated position, with her back against the shelves; those arms, and that voice, belonged to Emma Swan. 

With her hand still laying of Regina's shoulder, Emma was on her knees so that he could be at the same eye-level of the brunette, just to check if everything was all right.

“She's not bleeding, pupils react to the light...”

“I'm fine, Doctor House”. Regina Mills eventually spoke.

“Sarcasm. I'm glad you're fine, Regina”. Emma admitted to herself she was rather relieved of being again the target of Regina's remarks. 

“I didn't see you, sorry...”

“Sheriff, stop apologizing and help me stand up...”

Emma immediately tried to hug Regina in the attempt of lifting her, but Regina reacted with a slap on her chest.

“Your hand will be more than enough, Miss Swan”

Emma stood up and offered her left hand, smirking at how was statistically impossible to do something right when it came to Regina Mills.

 

_Don't be late to the town meeting._

 

_Don't let Henry eat fries, again._

 

_Don't stare at my breast_ \- oh, no...that thad never happened, and Regina probably didn't even noticed.

 

“You can grab your cart, if your head is still spinning...” said Emma unceremoniously, but Regina's head wasn't actually spinning; the vague dumbfounded look she had hadn't been caused by the fall, but by the presence of that surreal quantity of eggs in the cart.

Looking at it closely, she could also recognize boxes of popcorn, pizza, donuts and chocolate cheerios. Damn Gold, playing with her mental sanity.

Hopelessly, she rolled her eyes and cursed the man, whispering her infamous refrain _Is that some kind of joke?_ with a renewed tone of desperation.

“I don't need eggs, Mr Rumpelstiltskin!”. She screamed. Emma considered to call 911 as soon as possible. 

“Ok, Regina, focus on my voice. Gold has never been there and I don't think he has something to do with your grocery list. Let alone the fact that what you're watching now is actually my cart...and yours is over there, untouched and full of amazing food without any kind of interesting flavor”.

Regina stared at Emma. Then at her cart, which was not very far from the corner where they stood. 

No eggs in it, indeed. No Gold. No jokes.

And probably a serious head trauma. 

“ I think I need to go” Regina said to anyone in particular, before running out of the store.

 

The fresh air, once she reached the little parking outside the grocery, helped her to find some relief; she was pretty sure that, physically, she was ok. No suspicious pain anywhere, no blurred vision, no sense of nausea. She could remember that it was Thursday, that she was in Storybrooke and that she was a lover of thriller books. 

Suddenly she felt an overwhelming, inexplicable craving of a glass of pinot 

She tried to send away that desire, focusing on her last 15 minutes, with the aim to understand what had happened to her; probably something quite peculiar and confusing, if it had left her running out of a store after an epic fall on the floor.

Regina Mills tried so hard to retrace the events in the grocery, from the moment she saw Gold to the one when she heard that Abba's song. She couldn't even realize if she actually had fainted or not.

The song was not that bad, she thought. 

But again, it was Emma Swan who interrupted her solitude.

 

“You ran away” she said, when she was already too dangerously close to the former mayor.

“I needed some fresh air”

“Fresh air is good...like water” stated Emma, trying to hide how sorry she was behind some casual kindness.

“Right...”

 

When she heard that sentence, Regina voluntarily ignored the familiar feeling it caused; it was something like a deja-vu, but she had always thought that those things may happen when someone has lived a million lives, like she had.

Emma didn't want to force herself into a conversation Regina clearly had no intention to have, so she just started to walk with the grocery bags on her hands, trying to reach her VW.

“Well, I'd better go...”

 

“Emma...wait!”. Let alone the the fact that Regina had just called her by her first name and not by the usual _Miss Swan_ , she couldn't hide her surprise when Regina asked her the reason why she had bought so many eggs.

Surprise, plus a little concern about a possible concussion.

 

 

Anyway, Emma answered with a cute mix of shyness and pride.

“There's no need to remind you the fourth _Storybrooke Cooking Contest_ and the dramatic effects of my omelet...”

Regina nodded, unable to hide a smile. She would've won, with her Bucatini alla Sorrentina.

“... and the general tragic state of my cooking abilities... Even Snow and Henry can't hide anymore their disappointment when I cook something, and god knows how hard they try to be gentle... so I need some practice. Starting from the easiest things, trying to find a good teacher... Snow is really spending a fortune on antacids...”

 

The thought of Snow having digestive problems somehow gave Regina some unexpected joy.

“Well, good luck, then. It will be fun having a worthy competitor for the next context.”

 

Emma perfectly knew that that wasn't the answer she was looking for; Emma also knew that, for the umpteenth time, Regina had been paying visit to their future versions, somewhere around 2019, and had come back there, not remembering a single detail.

Every time Gold woke up bored, she knew that Regina would've been the target of some tricky joke; moreover, the older woman couldn't realize that Emma too had been involved in this game, each and every single time. Except that Emma could remember everything. Unfortunately, part of the deal – a deal that, paradoxically she had no memory of– was that Emma couldn't mention those meetings to Regina, because that would have meant the destruction of their future together.

 

And that was something that the blonde had no intention of losing.

 

When Emma smiled, she already knew that her list of things to hide to Regina had become longer: lying again about Gold being there with her at the grocery, pretending to ignore the reason why eggs always were everywhere or being ok with Regina calling her Miss Swan over and over. 

The privilege of having a preview of their future together was deeply linked to Emma's impossibility to change the present just to force events.

That sad smile she gave Regina just before leaving was the proof that Emma had always been aware of what she wanted, and was ready to do whatever she could to get it. Even if it meant waiting.

 

_Emma...wait!_ Yes, Regina had been right with her choice of words. Waiting was all Emma could do.

“Emma! Wait!”

Regina's voice hit her. The woman was actually trying to het Emma's attention, again.

The blonde focused on her own left hand trying to open the car door. No one had idea of how much Emma hated the verb _to_ w _ait_. 

“You know... I was thinking...”

Emma couldn't find the courage to turn her head and watch Regina in the eyes.

“... I shouldn't probably drive, and – if it's ok with you, of course – maybe you can take me home... and I can give you a couple of recipe books...” 

“ _If it's ok with you_ , Regina?” Emma asked with a not-so-well hidden irony, while facing Regina, eventually. “ _It is_ ok.” She promptly answered to her own question, ignoring her heart almost exploding. 

“It would really be a wonderful idea, Regina”

 

It was almost too funny to see Regina Mills getting in the bug without any kind of complain.

“Perfect, let's go then!”

It was almost impossible not to laugh watching Regina's face when Emma's autoradio played Dancing Queen.

And it was a pleasant torture not kissing her when she said “Let's see what we can do with those eggs, Emma”.

 

_-The end-_

 


End file.
